Since I was resurrected, I remember nothing except my first encounter with these four armed aliens called Fallen, and how mercilessly I killed them all. I had to survive, I had been dead for centuries, and this Ghost told me humanity needed me. I often think back to those first days, wondering, asking myself whether the soulless slaughter I commited was truly necessary. My fireteam members often asked these questions to themselves as well, but none of use knew the right answer. At first it seemed easy, but then we went to the Reef, and met Variks. The Vandal changed alot of our views to the Eliksni, and sometimes, I found myself deeply regretting the murder of those other Fallen. The Vanguard's Hunter, Cayde-6 knew of our - I guess you could call them moral dilema's - and he honestly admitted he regretted killing some Fallen after he met Variks. He offered the advice of 'Do what is right' which doesn't really mean much when no-one really knows whats right anymore.

~Tower, Earth, Home of the Guardians~

The moon had set, and the City below illuminated with lights all across its vast expanse. The great white sphere floated above, the lights below giving it the theme of divinty. That great white sphere was the reason Humanity still stood. It's Ghosts, the Guardians, the Light. Three small things combined to create a weapon against the Darkness. The Traveler, that is what the white object was called by mankind. It brought them to a Golden Age, and it tried to protect them during the Collapse.

The Tower that stood firm, high above the clouds was the home to the Guardians, a place where the heroes of humanity could regroup, relax, and re-forge themselves ready for their next mission. It was buzzing with Light-Weilders, some new, some experienced, all going about their buisness, be it decrypting engrams, taking bounties, or just walking around without any idea of what to do. Curses and swears were in the air from the Cryptarch stand, Guardians displeased at how engrams they were giving Rahool were coming back with completely useless items.

A fireteam of three stood leaning on the railings, looking out over the City and the Traveler. A Hunter, wearing a bronze cape with a golden wolf insignia upon it, and a Hard Luck Mk52 Handgun in his hand as he inspected it. A Warlock, one of the rare few Stormcallers, was in the the middle, with a Kell's Bond upon his left arm, and ocean blue armour with shades of jet black upon it, and a Legendary sword upon his back, the Dreadfang, a gift from Variks. The third fireteam member was a Titan of the Defender Subclass, and, unlike his experienced Hunter and Warlock companion, his appearance consisted of random different pieces of armour, the colours of them being completely seperate and none-matching. He carried a Scout Rifle on his back, and, being the type of guy he was, he never called a gun by its proper name - much like the Warlock - and dubbed them something completely different, such as this Scout Rifle being dubbed "Dawn's Precision"

The trio had just returned from Orbit, after a long tiring, and very dangerous patrol on the moon, and they were now enjoying the peace of the Tower. The Titan pulled out a Mote of Light, playing around with it in boredom, while the Hunter inspected his Handgun and the Warlock just watched the Titan in amusement. A chuckle followed a cuss as the Titan accidently imbued his Mote of Light into his form, wasting it's effects on his armour. "That was my last Mote as well"

With a shake of his head the Warlock left to speak with Ikora and the Vanguard, leaving the Hunter and Titan to go about their own buisness. With nothing to do, however, they went on ahead to their quarters, mentally jumping at the idea of finally getting the chance to properly relax after a week of patrols and near death situations. The hallway that led to their quarters was decorated with a red carpet, and orange patterns that matched the class symbols, down the centre, while the outline had smaller symbols matching each of the subclasses. Their room was, luckily, the first on the left, and while the Hunter, GoldWolf, sat down on the sofa to read some of his favourite written works, the Titan went directly into his small bedroom and faceplanted the bed, not even shutting the door behind him and earning an eye role from the Hunter.

The hours rolled on quickly, the trio enjoying their peace in their own methods. Stormlock spent his time lying on his bed and writing 'private' things, DawnWarden just sleeping and GoldWolf just reading. The peace was short lived when the Hunter's keen eye noted something strange within the Warlock's room, a Fallen Wire Rifle and Shock Rifle leaning against the corner. Weapons of Fallen, Hive, Cabal and Vex origins were strictly banned unless authorised by the Speaker or Vanguard - so he thought little of it, his mind assuming it was Cayde who let him. The amount of times that Hunter Exo broke protocal was beyond reasonable, yet his loveable nature and humour, and the fact the other two Vanguard didn't really trust him outside the Tower stopped any real action being taken against him.

A knock on their quarters door quickly interrupted all of their activities, and GoldWolf was the Guardian to beckon them in. As the door opened, the Speaker himself entered, two Guardians by his side, both equipped with The Dealbreaker Legendary Auto Rifle. The three Guardians saluted the Speaker as he entered.

"At ease Guardians" to which the three Guardians sat down, curious and concerned about the Speaker's reasoning to be here. It wasn't like him to call for experienced Guardians, unless he bore either really good or really bad news to share - and lately, anything remotely considered good news was scarce. "I come bringing terrible news, especially for you, Stormlock."

"What?" The Warlock was now terrified though he wouldn't show it. "What do you mean?"

"I regret to announce, your sister, she has been lost to the Darkness, her Ghost was recovered, but it's no longer able to bring her back."

At this, the Warlock felt power and hatred course through his entire frame, the sparks of his Arc charging throughout him. "Where? and what killed her?"

"The Ghost managed to share their last memories, and it shows she was lost on Venus, against the Vex just outside the Vault of Glass." That location burned deep within their fears, no Guardians that ever went in there came back out - save for the luckiest few. Stormlock, Goldwolf and DawnWarden went in with their own seperate fireteams of six, and none of them ever came back, except these three. In normal circumstances, Stormlock would be the first one to refuse any assignment even close to the Vault, but this wasn't normal circumstances. He was out to avenge his sister, or by every Orb of Light, he'd be lost trying.

"Lets go" the Hunter instantly took out his Handgun to show he was serious.

"Hell yea" the Titan joined in.

A grateful nod and the three left for Orbit, quickly entering Warp-Drive and heading straight to the Vault. Their ships dropped them off directly at the Vault, yet the first things that caught the Warlock's eyes was something that belonged to his sister, a small locket she always wore, something he gave her. Crouching down beside it, he gently picked it up before requesting his Ghost, Bolt, to store it. With an angered warcry, he blasted the ground with Arc, feeling the storm flow to his fingertips as he floated straight into the Vex group responsible for her death, the only Vex still here. The Hunter soon triggered his Golden Gun, rushing in and firing shots off at the Axis Minotaurs and Harpy's. As his Golden Gun bled dry its ammo and charge, he brough out his Handgun and continued to tear into the Vex, who were struggling to return fire.

Their mechanical whirrs and screeches were silenced with the blast of rifles, and before long the Guardians were standing surrouned by destroyed Vex. They felt no remorse towards these robots, they were machines built to kill, they felt no remorse against the Hive, foul creatures that live or un-live, based on how you see them, for Crota. It wasn't so much as killing Hive, it was more... Putting them back to the grave. Cabal? Well, they kinda blew up planets for getting in their way, so they had about as much mercy for them as they did for those planets and all life on them. Fallen on the other hand were so much different, they were more, subjected, desperate, so much more like Humanity than many cared to admit.

Feeling his body relax, and the anger and hatred fade as the knowledge her murderer had been, well murdered, became apparent. He wanted to mourn her loss, but knew it wasn't safe at all here. Not only were Vex forces at their strongest here, but Fallen Wolves could sometimes drop in from a Skiff on Skola's orders. How that 'Kell of Kell's' broke out the Prison was beyond anyone, more so that the Awoken hadn't even attempted to get him back. He knew that word would've spread quickly about her death, seeing as how she was one of the Vanguards most trusted Guardians, and even a known personal favourite of Shaax in the Crucible. "Lets head home"